


Made For You

by PrinceWhisper



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Hubert, Eventual Smut, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Modeling, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Will add tags as fic updates!, hinted Byleth/Edelgard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-27 18:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceWhisper/pseuds/PrinceWhisper
Summary: If he were to look back on this moment, Hubert von Vestra would realize that love at first sight can absolutely exist. That chemistry can happen no matter what. That someone can be so striking that it literally takes your breath away. And the long-haired model across the room is striking.





	1. Across The Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic I have written in um... *checks watch* 11 years? I really appreciate anyone taking the time to read it, and I hope you enjoy it! \o/
> 
> This is a bit slow burn, it will lead to eventual smut but it's honestly just a big fluffy, warm, soft romance story. <3

This sudden fame and fortune and success has all come so suddenly and quickly, it's nearly given Hubert von Vestra whiplash. The man has worked hard and diligently for a number of years now, in small local fashion shows, online little publications, the occasional brand buying a few items from his line to feature in their shops.

But recently, someone with more pull discovered Hubert, and they liked what they found. His most recent line, 'Endless Nights', has really taken off, and for the past six months it's been an absolute whirlwind. He's in multiple corporate stores now, his work has been found in numerous fashion shows, magazine publications, ads, and even one commercial so far. It's absolutely incredible, and exhilarating, even if Hubert isn't at all used to this kind of attention.

Today, he finds himself at a new shoot. He's been contracted with a brand out of London that wants to work with him. Endless Nights has been successful, but they have him signed on for a very lucrative contract for a line exclusive to their company, and how could he possibly resist?

So he's here, fussing over the line up of clothes they've set aside for the two models they'll be working with today. He has yet to meet either of them, as far as he's aware, and Hubert tries desperately to remember the names and faces of those he has worked with. They'll be here any minute, still finishing hair and makeup in another room, and he needs to get everything set up and ready for them! No matter how many shows or shoots he has, Hubert will likely never settle into any expectations but that of absolute perfection and success.  
  
There is a soft commotion across the room then, causing the designer to lift his head and see the models entering from across the way. And that’s when Hubert sees him.  
  
If he were to look back on this moment, Hubert von Vestra would realize that love at first sight can absolutely exist. That chemistry can happen no matter what. That someone can be so striking that it literally takes your breath away. And the long-haired model across the room is _striking._   
  
He’s not even the type of person Hubert would expect himself to be drawn to. The man is...soft, with a kind face despite the sharp angles of a nose that hints at royalty in the bloodline long ago and a jawline that could cut through glass. But his eyes...his eyes are warm, and welcoming, and Hubert wants to drown in them.  
  
And then those eyes meet him, and he can see from across the room that the model stops speaking mid-word. He was already smiling, but the smile on his face now turns almost _shy_, as if looking at Hubert ignites the same warmth in him as he does in the fashion designer. Even from across the room, it’s hard to miss it, and it’s hard to miss the soft flush that rises in those _perfect_ cheeks.

He’s in love, he’s sure of it.   
  
Unfortunately, he doesn’t find himself with a chance to act on it right away, as his assistant takes the rack of clothes and immediately wheels it across the room before Hubert can realize it or do anything about it himself.   
  
It’s alright -- he’ll have his chance. Hubert would do anything to talk to this gorgeous, alluring model.

\--

He learns by the end of the shoot that the model’s name is Ferdinand von Aegir, and Hubert has never been so delighted to share a similar last name with someone.

They’re all taking a small break when he overhears a conversation between one of the set dressers and Ferdinand’s agent, and Hubert tries  _ very _ hard to be subtle as he edges closer to the table with coffee and snacks on it. His bagel must be absolutely fascinating with the way he stares at it as he spreads cream cheese on it--he doesn’t even like cream cheese, what is he doing--to listen to them discuss the model.

“Oh yes, he’s been doing this for years.”

“Really? He seems so young!”

“Well, he is quite young, he was a child model. His mother’s doing, I think? But he is such a darling thing, he found success right away.”   
  
“Oh, is his mother a model too, then?”   
  
“Actually no, his family seems to be a line of politicians. He’s the black sheep, I guess.”   
  
Hubert glances over at this remark, admiring Ferdinand as his long legs stretch out across the lounge he’s laid on, displaying the well-fitted pants that Hubert brought for today’s shoot. His eyes linger a beat too long as they rest on the well-toned calves wrapped in black pleather.

“I suppose he must be! But he’s so lovely, it’s no wonder he has had such success."  
  
At this point Hubert has probably given the poor bagel an orgasm with how thoroughly he’s put cream cheese on it, and steps away before it’s completely obvious that he’s eavesdropping. 

He almost feels bad that he doesn’t spend nearly as much energy trying to learn about the other model, who seems sweet--a soft spoken, charming thing named Ashe who seems new to the industry. But he can’t find it in himself to feel that terrible, not when he’s so intensely interested in learning more about the orange-haired model that’s completely bewitched him in a matter of moments.

The flush is close to constant on Hubert’s face as he observes, to the point that his assistant carefully asks his imposing boss if he has a fever. The cold, unimpressed look he gets in return is enough to stop him from asking again, though he keeps giving Hubert the odd glance.   
  
The designer doesn’t notice, however, and no one else comments on it--Hubert is known to be, well...a little weird. He’s polite, charming at good times, but he has a fascination with the macabre and has been known to talk like the villain in an action anime. But not the main villain, just the one that will betray you later but you really want to trust him anyway.   
  
When Ferdinand runs his fingers through his hair, Hubert wants to chase those fingers with his own. When he pouts his lip out a little bit for a shot, he wants to kiss him until his lips are bruised. When he looks through his lashes at the camera, he wants to drop to one knee and ask Ferdinand what he wants, he’ll get him anything, he’ll fetch him the moon if he desires.   
  
He keeps missing his chance to speak with him, though--the photographer is spearheading the shoot, calling out directions and praise to the two working hard in front of the lens. His assistant is handling wardrobe adjustments, and any direction Hubert has is murmured to him rather than anyone else...if only for the sake of not causing distraction or fuss. And of course, the added benefit of not drawing attention to himself when he’s being  _ fucking weird _ , even by industry standards when it comes to the average, eccentric fashion designer.   
  
Hubert doesn’t miss when Ferdinand’s eyes are drawn to him in return, however. He could never, not when it feels like he's suddenly got the sun shining on him, warming him to the bone with that honey gaze alone. What’s even more embarrassing is that he can’t help but stare back, a flush rising to his own cheeks any time the model smiles at him.   
  
“Ferdinand, that’s a lovely expression--can you keep doing that?” the photographer calls. Taken off guard, Ferdinand laughs cutely, and Hubert’s heart leaps into his throat.   
  
“Yes, of course,” he responds after a moment, and looks back to the camera, but with the same warm expression he had when he looked at Hubert, standing behind the shoot and quietly directing his assistant as needed to help with things.

He didn’t even expect Ferdinand to look as striking in his clothes as he does--well, he did, of course, but he never imagined this line working so wonderfully for someone softer and warmer like Ferdinand. His clothes are sharp, dark, edging on gothic. But the model could make a paper sack look good, if Hubert were to guess. He works the flowing lines, ruffles, the sharp trim, the silver buttons like he was made to wear them.   
  
God, he’s in  _ love. _   
  
The shoot wraps up far quicker than he wants it to. Never before has the man wanted a model to stay in his clothes for so long, or maybe out of them, strewn across the dressing room floor--

“Hubert, right?”   
  
Eyes snap up to meet warm honey gold, and his heart nearly stops, not for the first time that day. Ferdinand looks charmed, almost shy, right in front of the designer and holding his hand out. He dumbly remembers that he’s supposed to be returning it, and shakes his hand, face flushed scarlet. He definitely waited too long to return that handshake, but the model doesn’t seem put off by it.   
  
“Right, yes. Hubert von Vestra.” Okay, we’re off to a good start. “Ferdinand, correct?”   
  
“Right,” he responds, and Hubert barely remembers to pull his hand back in a timely fashion before it gets weird. “You’re the designer, right? I really love your work.” He steps a little closer, and Hubert finds himself holding the jacket that Ferdinand wore for his last few shots. He didn’t even notice Ferdinand was holding it, much less pressing it into his arms. Their fingers brush, and he feels as though he’s been struck by lightning.   
  
“Yes, thank you,” he nearly stumbles over his words, hyper-aware of his posture, his tone, everything. For once in his life, Hubert feels self-conscious. “You did a--a lovely job today, Ferdinand.”   
  
“Aren’t you a charmer?” He chuckles, as Hubert takes the coat from him and hangs it back on the rack, if only to keep his hands busy and distracted so he doesn’t look like a fish out of water. Ferdinand opens his mouth to continue, when someone calls his name from across the room, near the doorway. “Ah--I have another shoot to rush off to. It was lovely meeting you, Hubert.” 

He seems to genuinely mean it, and the damned flush rises to his cheeks again. “Of course, it was lovely meeting you--” he manages, before Ferdinand rushes to the door. He nearly reaches out, as if he can literally feel his chance slipping through his fingers.    
  
Just as he’s about to call out, do  _ anything _ to stop this model from just disappearing from his life like he never entered it in the first place, Ferdinand turns back, flashing a little smile. “I would check those pockets if I were you!” He hollers across the room, and grins before he’s out the door, as quick as he arrived.    
  
Hubert realizes after a beat that he’s definitely gaping, and his assistant is raising an eyebrow at him, and he promptly clears his throat before returning to hanging his clothes up. The flush doesn’t leave his face, not for a good ten minutes.   
  
\--

The rest of the day goes by in a flash, hopping between appointments, shoots, and even an interview, but the tired designer finally finds himself at home, tired. He still takes the time to hang his coat and neatly tuck his shoes away, letting his assistant put away today's items before he heads home for the evening. Hubert finds himself with his house empty, and feels relief at finally being alone after a busy day surrounded by people.   
  
Despite his exhaustion begging him for more caffeine, he brews himself a decaf coffee, sipping it quietly as he pads quietly through the gothic-style decorated house back to his studio. He starts running through tasks in his head--he’ll need to get all the items worn today dry cleaned, organized, and neatly put in storage until they’re needed again. Tomorrow’s items need to be pulled and put on racks, he should vacuum seal the shoes and--   
  
It’s at that moment that he remembers --  _ check the pockets. _   
  
It takes a moment to find the jacket amongst the work that was done today, and he looks through the pockets curiously, finding a little note tucked into the breast pocket on the inside of the coat that Ferdinand pressed into his arms.

‘Call me. <3 -F’ with a number scribbled next to it.

The man doesn’t even need to be in the room for him to make Hubert blush like a schoolgirl.

Hubert is in it deep now, isn’t he?


	2. The Merits of Coffee and Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the love so far, guys! I'm really enjoying dipping my toes back into writing and I really appreciate the kudos and sweet comments! I was gonna wait to post the next chapter until next week, but I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy these awkward men attempting to navigate their feelings <3

By day three, Ferdinand is feeling discouraged. 

It’s not like him, really, to let things discourage them. He always pushes on, through thick and thin! But...he is a little surprised, and disappointed, that Hubert hasn’t called yet.

He thought it was a for sure thing, the way he kept catching the designer watching him across the room. He would feel those dark handsome eyes on him and meet them with his own, and he could practically feel this shiver up his spine now! 

The designer had been so alluring, so hard to read, so dark and mysterious and  _ gorgeous _ and Ferdinand can’t get the man out of his head!

“Ugh! Just call me already!” He pouts at his silent phone, laying in bed much like a teenager waiting for a crush to text after school so they can sneak out together. He sighs, rolling over onto his back and gazing wistfully at the ceiling. It’s not fair, he wants to hear from him so very badly! But the phone doesn’t ring, and he flops his head down, huffing softly as orange hair falls around him.

He rolls over in bed, snatching up his phone and checking his missed call list for the millionth time that day. Nothing! Not a thing! Radio silence! He grumbles, considering how bad it would be to chuck his phone at the headboard, but instead taps over to his messages and finds Edelgard’s name, firing off a text.   
  
_ ‘He hasn’t called yet. :( Three days is so long, do u think I misread the situation?’ _

It takes some time for Edelgard to respond--maybe out with her girlfriend, Byleth?--but after a few minutes a text comes through. Ferdinand snatches up his phone, feeling immediate guilt when he’s bummed that it’s not his tall, gorgeous vampire reaching out to him, apologizing for the delay he’s just been  _ so _ busy--

He snaps himself out of it, blushing and looking down at the text.

_ ‘I’m sure it’s fine, Ferdinand. Fashion week is next month, he’s probably just busy.’ _

A few moments pass, and another text comes through:

_ ‘And three days isn’t that long, relax. If he’s anything like you described, he’ll call.’ _   
  
Ferdinand pouts at the screen, deciding that is  _ not  _ worth a reply even if it’s his admirable heroine Edelgard who he loves  _ very _ much and learned everything about modeling from. Even then.

And then his phone rings.

Ferdinand scrambles to grab it so suddenly he nearly fumbles the damn thing across the room, squeaking in an undignified manner as he gets a hold of it, and himself. He is so  _ very _ glad he is home alone, for the love of the goddess.

He answers before he can miss it, schooling his voice into some semblance of calm. Or, anything other than squeaky, overly excitable nervousness, really.

“Hello?” He ventures, biting his lip anxiously.

“Ah, yes. Hello. Is this, uh, Ferdinand?”

God, he could recognize those luscious tones anywhere. That lovely tingle returns to Ferdinand’s spine, and he feels his shoulders release a tension he didn’t realize they were holding.

“It is! Hello Hubert, I was wondering when you’d call.” He smiles against the receiver, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger. “It’s so wonderful to hear from you.”   
  
“Likewise--I mean, it’s nice to hear you. I am the one that called.” A pause. “I’m sorry. Should I hang up and try again?”

Ferdinand laughs, charmed and blushing even just at his cute mannerisms over the phone. “No no please don’t, I’ve been so eager to hear from you! I’m glad that you found my note.”   
  
“I...yes, I did. Thank you. I am sorry for the delay.”   
  
“That’s alright!” He chirps, so elated he doesn’t even care if he sounds a little too excited. “So...now that you’ve called…”   


“Yes?”

He hesitates for a moment, before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “Would you perhaps like to join me for a cup of tea this weekend? I know a nice little cafe downtown, they have this outdoor garden with seats and it’s just lovely!” He stops himself before he can babble, feeling a nervous energy in his ribcage.

“If they perhaps...serve coffee, I would love that.”

Ferdinand pauses, mumbling a ‘one second’ into the phone before turning it so he can check their menu online. “Oh, yes they do! I’m not much of a coffee drinker, so I didn’t really pay attention…” He trails off, giggling nervously.

“That’s alright. That sounds lovely, Ferdinand.” 

“Alright I’ll um...I’ll text you an address, we can meet there? How about seven on Friday night?” He fidgets, hanging on Hubert’s every word.   
  
“Seven it is.”   
  
“Wonderful!” He grins, sitting up in bed and practically wiggling. “Well I--I suppose I should let you get back to whatever it is you were doing, as loathe as I am to release you!” Ferdinand hears the softest of chuckles in his ear at that, and oh sweet  _ goddess _ he wishes that was in his ear right now and not just through the phone. He squirms with delight.

“Alright, Ferdinand. I hope you have a lovely evening.”

“You too,” he breathes, before slowly hanging up. It takes a full three seconds before he pumps his fist in the air, whooping and grinning before tumbling back in his bed, feeling like a schoolboy! “I have a date!” He hollers at nothing, before rolling out of the bed as if it has caught fire.

He rushes to the closet, throwing open the doors and looking at all the pieces he’s acquired over his years of work. He gets right to work, digging through everything to find a good outfit with at least one piece he knows is Hubert’s, from before they met.

Clothes fly out behind him, making a proper mess in his bedroom, but he doesn’t care. He finally finds what he’s looking for--his favorite fall coat. He’d spotted it at a fashion walk he was in and fell in love with it, and he pulls the soft, deep violet coat out now, running his hand along the sleeves. He sighs wistfully, practically swooning on the spot as he feels the soft fabric under his fingertips. He holds it up in front of him, grinning brilliantly at the garment.

“You’re gonna help me knock your creator off his feet.”

\--

Ferdinand can’t believe how nervous he feels, shaking with nervous energy as he approaches the little cafe where he told Hubert to meet him. He bites his lip, not seeing him inside just yet as he pulls the door open and steps in, shaking off the slight fall chill setting in outside. He tugs his scarf loose, going up to the counter to order a nice warm Earl Grey.

He knows he’s early, but his brain still runs a million miles a minute as he collects the hot mug and takes a seat, leg bouncing. What if he stands him up? What if he doesn’t like him? What if Ferdinand misread the entire situation?

The long trail of thoughts is interrupted, as he hears the door chime and his head whips up in a snap. And there is is...his tall, handsome vampire gentleman. Ferdinand practically swoons, smiling as he admires Hubert from across the room. His eyes linger on tall cheekbones, on dark eyes, on the hair that obscures part of his handsome face.

“Ah--Hubert!” He waves, and he seems to take notice and approach, slipping between skewed chairs and wobbly little round tables.

Ferdinand practically springs out of his chair, reaching to take his hands before Hubert can do anything about it, squeezing them and grinning at him. “It’s so wonderful to see you again!”

The flush on Hubert’s face matches the slightly flustered expression, and it only makes the grin on Ferdinand’s face spread wider.

“Ah--yes, of course, lovely to see you as well.” He hesitates, then leans in to peck Ferdinand’s cheek politely, though it only causes the model to flush scarlet and giggle cutely. “I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“No no, not at all! You’re right on time.” He gestures to the table for Hubert to sit, a sweet expression on his face. “Your drink order?”

“Ah--coffee, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Ferdinand gives a quick nod, practically beaming as he goes back over to the counter to order the drink to Hubert’s specifications.

While he waits for the coffee to finish, his eyes travel slowly back across the cafe to admire Hubert while trying to remain subtle. He really does look like a gorgeous vampire, in all blacks, a long but perfectly fitted black wool coat over a fashionable button up and slacks. He makes it work, and Ferdinand bites his lip, getting distracted by the shape of his nose, how it dips down into his soft-looking lips--

“For Ferdinand?” 

The model snaps out of it, flushing and thanking the barista as he takes the coffee, promptly returning to the table. He brings back cream and sugar just in case his date wants to partake before slipping back into his own seat, sipping his tea.

“So I--”

“I’m so gl--”

They both start at the same time, and Ferdinand giggles, blushing a little and waving his hand for Hubert to continue. “You go, you first you first.” 

Hubert gives a stiff nod, still looking a little nervous as he sips at the coffee. “I was just going to say that I’m glad we were able to take some time to meet.” A pause. “I’ve been thinking of you since the photoshoot.”

“Really?” Ferdinand leans his chin in his hand, admiring him across the table. It takes some focus to actually hear the words he’s saying rather than just dreamily stare at him. “I’ve been thinking about you too...I was so worried you wouldn’t call!”

“To be completely honest I...was working up the courage.” He clears his throat, not meeting Ferdinand’s eyes as the model’s face lights up.

“Oh, that’s so sweet! What a gentleman,” he sighs, leaning closer across the table a little. There are practically sparkles in his eyes and he knows he should tone it down but he doesn’t  _ want _ to tone it down. He’s smitten! “I didn’t get a chance to really tell you how much I love your work.”

“Thank you.” Hubert offers a little smile, and Ferdinand practically sees his vision turn into a hazy, pink framed image. Wow…

“Of course!” He says, too quick and too loud, before reigning himself back in. Thankfully, Hubert doesn’t seem turned off by his excitement. “I actually have some of your older stuff--I’ve been looking forward to an opportunity to model with your work…”

“Ah yes, I--I recognized your coat.” The flush is returning to the pale man’s cheekbones, and Ferdinand could just  _ squeeze _ him. “It looks good. I mean, on you. It suits you.”

Ferdinand smiles brilliantly at that, reaching across to gently lay his hand on Hubert’s, not missing the flustered blush that erupts across his face, one to match his own. “Thank you, Hubert...now, how about you tell me about yourself?”

\--

He didn’t think it was possible to be even more charmed by Hubert by the end of their time together at the cafe, but Ferdinand finds himself proven wrong. After the initial first-date-awkwardness, Hubert settled in and relaxed a little, and he’s just delightful. They both obviously have a great interest in fashion, which gives them plenty to talk about!

They bickered briefly about the merits of coffee versus tea, and when Hubert’s hand reached to take Ferdinand’s tea when he insisted the designer try it, their fingers brushed and that same electric shock had gone down Ferdinand’s spine. He could just die happy right here!

It’s clear that the man puts on a cold, morose air--but Ferdinand manages to cut through it with his sunshine smile, earning smiles and small chuckles and soft affectionate reactions to things he says. He is just  _ adorable. _

Regrettably, the date has to come to an end, but Ferdinand finds himself holding onto the arm of his strong companion as he walks him outside. His hand strokes up his arm a little, feeling a subtle curve of muscle under the fabric, and it only causes him to lean even further into his tall figure. He has a car waiting, but he pauses before they reach it, turning to face Hubert.

“I had a lovely time, Hubert.” He smiles, reaching up to cup his cheek gently, not missing how Hubert seems to just slightly lean into it.

“I did as well, Ferdinand,” he murmurs, moving just a touch closer. He leans down, electricity sparking between them. This is it, he’s going to kiss him, oh Ferdinand hasn’t stopped thinking about this since they met! His hand adjusts on Hubert’s face, guiding him closer. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and Ferdinand closes his eyes, tilts his face up--

And a kiss lands on his cheek, soft and lingering. 

He opens his eyes, frowning a little and looking up at him with confused eyes, but Hubert doesn’t seem bothered. He thought he was going to kiss him!

“I would like to take you to dinner next weekend, if you’re free,” Hubert says, before Ferdinand can ask anything about  _ why  _ he hasn’t been romantically dipped and kissed here on the street. 

It takes a moment for the words to process, but Ferdinand gives an enthusiastic nod at that, his hair bouncing as he presses close, his hands grasping Hubert’s between their chests. “Yes, yes yes! Of course!” He squeezes his hands, continuing, “I would absolutely love that. Perhaps you would come pick me up?”

“Of course. Just send me the address and a good day and time.” Hubert lifts Ferdinand’s hands, softly kissing his knuckles if only to earn the lovely blush that Ferdinand has every time he does.

“I will, I will!” He nods, unable to stop smiling like a fool. “I look forward to it so much.” He pauses, before leaning up and pecking Hubert on the cheek, not willing to push the boundary if Hubert isn’t ready to kiss yet. “I suppose I should get going, but I look forward to next weekend  _ so  _ much, Hubert.”

Hubert nods, smiling and softly touching his own cheek where he kissed him as Ferdinand pulls away. The model waves as he gets in the car, and watches out the window until the car turns the corner and he’s not within sight anymore.

As soon as he’s gone from his vision, Ferdinand melts into the seat, sighing dreamily and hugging himself. He’s smitten, and next weekend really can’t come fast enough.  
  



	3. Sweetened with Wine

This week has been absolutely shit. 

Hubert is exhausted, and the dark circles under his eyes are even more pronounced than usual. Normally he wears them like a badge of honor, but right now he just wears them with sheer exhaustion.

Fashion week is coming up on him at light speed, and Hubert is completely booked with tasks and appointments, mock-ups that need sewn together and fitted, designs that need finalized. His assistant does what he can to help but a lot of it still falls on his shoulders. It’s exhausting, and he’s ready for a break.

Thankfully, he knows the perfect break is coming soon. Saturday evening, seven sharp, he’ll be picking Ferdinand up at 572 Black Eagle Street, a downtown luxury apartment building he may have guiltily googled between meetings. It’s tomorrow, and he’s been looking forward to it all week--it’s honestly been the primary motivator to help him slog through everything that needs to be done.

That, and the frequent little text messages Ferdinand sends him throughout the day.

Hubert doesn’t always have time to respond, or know what to say, but that doesn’t seem to bother the model at all. He doesn’t spam him, but if Hubert were to go the whole day without checking his phone, at least eight or nine little messages would likely await him by evening.    
  
Without fail, around 7 AM each morning: ‘Good morning dear Hubert!’   
  
Usually within an hour or two, comes a delightful little selfie of that day’s look that Hubert catches himself admiring. Sometimes, he manages to take one of his own without too much trouble and almost shyly sends it back, resulting in a number of emojis that has his head spinning.   
  
The rest of the texts vary throughout the day as he gets them, depending on what Ferdinand is up to. One day, a picture of a flower stand at the market. Another was a picture of a photoshoot set up, an outfit, a dog he saw on the street…

Hubert is smitten.

As if he knew Hubert was thinking fondly of him, Hubert’s phone buzzes in his pocket with a message as he’s waiting in the elevator to head down to the parking garage and head home for the night. He fishes it out as casually as he can, having taken notice of his assistant’s keen eye each time Hubert texts more than he’s ever seen him do.   
  
‘ _ Good evening Hubert! I hope you had a lovely day and get some well-deserved rest. I’m looking forward to our date tomorrow!’ _

The text is followed by about seven heart emojis, and Hubert feels a smile unwittingly tugging at the corners of his mouth. What a charming creature he is.

‘ _ I look forward to it as well. -H ‘ _

He responds, and within moments is met with a plethora of emojis of a little smiling person with hearts for eyes. Hubert has never really used emojis before, but Ferdinand is certainly making him want to start.

The designer is so worn out by the time that he gets home that he goes straight to bed, early, falling asleep and managing to get a solid chunk of sleep through the night.

And at last, it’s Saturday.

The day passes without incident, but for once it feels  _ too _ long, as Hubert paces around his house, trying to keep his hands busy and make the time go by. At 5:30, he prepares for the date, and he is out of the house by 6:40 to make it in time to pick him up.

Despite this being the second date, his nervousness is somehow increased as he drives himself across town, fingers drumming on the steering wheel in a manner he isn’t used to. He’s self assured, confident--it’s not like him to be fidgeting like an anxious teenager!

But he can’t help it, especially as he pulls into the loading zone in front of a luxurious building downtown. A little text announcing his arrival is sent off to Ferdinand, but within moments he sees it isn’t necessary, as a familiar model steps out of the lobby.   
  
Hubert’s breath is stolen from his lungs at the sight of him. Ferdinand is always gorgeous, but it’s clear that tonight is  _ special _ , as the model is dressed up even more than normal. His long hair is down, with the exception of neat french braids at his temples that draw his hair back into a makeshift braided crown, fixed with a gold leaf barrette. His legs look stunning in slightly heeled boots, and accentuated further by perfectly fitted black pants that hug the shapely muscle of his thighs.   
  
What truly does Hubert in is the half open, nearly blouse-like top Ferdinand is wearing. It opens halfway up his abdomen, and he can see the toned, lean, golden muscle of his pecs and the elegant dip of his collarbones underneath.   
  
He has to remind himself to close his jaw, his teeth snapping together as he gets a damned hold of himself.

Ferdinand slips into the car with the comfortable grace that Hubert is learning is just part of  _ Ferdinand _ , and leans over to peck Hubert on the cheek, practically buzzing with excitement in his seat.   
  
“Hubert! Oh, you’re right on time. I’m so delighted to see you!” He buckles in, talking a mile a minute as Hubert pulls the car back out into the street. There’s a little blush rising in his high cheekbones, and he can only hope that Ferdinand doesn’t notice or remark on it. How terribly embarrassing.

“--Anyway, that was my week. How are you?” Ferdinand asks, brushing a lock of hair from his face. Hubert seems almost taken aback by the sudden question, clearing his throat and glancing at Ferdinand when he’s stopped at a red light.   
  
“Oh, I’m alright. I suppose I’ve been a bit busy.” That’s a severe understatement. “I was looking forward to this all week, however.”   
  
“Oh, me too!” Ferdinand chirps with delight, clasping his hands together and smiling brilliantly at his date. “I could hardly wait. I nearly asked if we could go sooner! Next time, I don’t want to go a week between instances of seeing you, my darling.”

Next time? Hubert’s blush only increases, and his hands grip tighter on the steering wheel as the light turns green and he accelerates. “I do apologize, I’ll be sure to avoid keeping you waiting in the future.”

“That’s quite alright,” Ferdinand continues, and Hubert can feel his eyes on him, “I just don’t think I can survive another long week without your handsome face.”

Hubert, flustered, isn’t quite sure how to respond to such raw honesty and flirtation, but thankfully they’ve arrived at their destination and he’s spared the expectation to answer with anything other than a sputtering thank you. He parks the car, coming around immediately to open the door for his date and offer his arm.   
  
The warmth of Ferdinand against his side as they approach the door is...exquisite, to be quite honest. He savors it as they walk, getting the door for him and telling the host of their reservation.

“This is so opulent!” Ferdinand is looking around, and the warm glow of the interior lighting just highlights his beautiful features that much more. Hubert desperately wants to kiss every freckle on that charming face, one by one. “You’ve spoiled me, Hubert.”   
  
“Not as much as you deserve to be spoiled,” he counters, as they’re led to a private booth near the windows. He pulls the seat for Ferdinand before slipping into his own, smoothing his hands down his legs as he settles in. He’s still a little nervous.   
  
“Ferdinand,” he starts, catching his date’s attention, who was previously gazing curiously out the large glass windows, “I just wanted you to know how dearly I valued our correspondence this week.”

“Oh, Hubert!” The model practically swoons in his seat, smiling brilliantly and reaching across to take Hubert’s hand, giving it a squeeze that makes Hubert feel as though he’s got a direct line to his heart as well. “The pleasure was all mine, I just adored speaking with you so much!” 

“I’ve never had someone so consistently say good morning and good evening to me that I wasn’t paying,” Hubert chuckles softly, moving his hand to gently lace their fingers.    
  
“You deserve the attention!” Ferdinand nods matter-of-factly, smiling. 

Hubert opens his mouth to respond, but pauses when the waiter approaches to take drink orders. He orders a bottle of high quality wine to share, before letting go of Ferdinand’s hand so his date can look over the menu.   
  
Much like their previous date, it goes smoothly and they quickly find a rhythm with one another. They talk about anything and everything, and Hubert lets his date lead the conversation, nodding along and remarking where he needs to. It’s delightful as can be. 

Hubert hates when the evening starts to draw to a close, their meals finished, wine drank, dessert shared. He picks up the check before the model even has a chance, paying it and tipping well.   
  
Ferdinand is on his arm again the moment they stand, and he doesn’t mind a bit. He listens to Ferdinand talk about the restaurant and how delicious the meal was as they head outside, enjoying the warmth on his arm once again.    
  
“I suppose I should take you home?” Hubert asks, noting that it’s getting quite late. Ferdinand looks a little disappointed, but he gives a nod, squeezing Hubert’s bicep.   
  
“I suppose so yes, it is rather late and my agent scheduled me for a Sunday morning shoot! Why a Sunday? No one likes working on Sunday.” He huffs, shaking his head as Hubert unlocks the car and they usher inside.   
  
“Hopefully it’s not terribly early,” Hubert offers, buckling in before taking Ferdinand’s hand across the center console, lacing their fingers. He doesn’t miss the soft blush that rises in those perfect, golden cheeks.    
  
“Hm? O-Oh! No, it’s not too bad. But early enough that I shouldn’t stay...out too late.” His voice is a little more wavered now, sounding unsure of himself in a positively adorable way as Hubert starts the car.   
  
The drive home is a little quieter than the way there, but neither of them seem to mind. Soft music fills the gaps between words, and their hands stay twined, Hubert idly rubbing his thumb over Ferdinand’s knuckles.   
  
Regrettably, they find themselves in front of the large apartment building before long, Hubert pulling the car into a space rather than a loading zone. “I’d like to walk you to your door, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, of course,” Ferdinand immediately brightens, only releasing Hubert’s hand to be able to get out of the car. “Such a gentleman!”

Hubert locks the car, immediately coming around to join Ferdinand’s side as they head inside. The model stops at the front reception desk--goddess, this building is fancy--before scurrying back to Hubert’s side, grinning. “I told them to always let you up if you come to visit, they don’t need to check in with me.”

“Oh,” Hubert blushes, offering a little smile, “That’s very thoughtful of you, Ferdinand. I’ll try not to take advantage of that.”   
  


“I can’t say I would mind if you did,” he quips back, and Hubert feels flustered for probably the fiftieth time that evening.

They step into the elevator, and he keeps his fingers laced with Ferdinand’s, squeezing his hand gently and rubbing his thumb over his skin reverently. He feels the warmth and weight of the model lean into his side in response, letting out the sweetest sigh.   
  
They stop on one of the floors higher to the top, and Ferdinand leads him out into the hall, fishing for his keys in his pocket.

When they reach the door, however, he stops, turning to face Hubert with a little smile. The designer doesn’t miss how his long fingers fiddle with the keys, rather than unlocking the door, and how those gorgeous eyes look up into his own. “Hubert…”

“Yes?”

“I had a really delightful time tonight.” He steps a little closer, one hand lifting and pressing gently against his chest. Hubert swallows, feeling a sudden lump in his throat.    
  
“I did as well,” he manages, immediately feeling triumphant for not stuttering over his words. Ferdinand really can undo him in a way that no one else can--he feels like a different man, so altered from his usual cold, assured self.   
  
“You’re so charming…” Ferdinand continues, stepping even closer, lifting his head a little and looking at Hubert through long, beautiful lashes. “You spoil me, treat me so sweetly. You make me feel special.” He sighs softly, the corners of his mouth turned up in a gentle smile.   
  
“You deserve it,” Hubert murmurs, noticing how close they are. Their lips only have a few inches between them. He can smell the wine lingering on Ferdinand’s breath, the gentle and comforting smell of his cologne. The warmth of his hand on Hubert’s chest feels like a hot iron even through the layers of clothing.    
  
“What else do I deserve?” Ferdinand almost whispers, starting to lift onto his toes just a little bit.

Hubert doesn’t answer with words--that’s not what Ferdinand wants anyway, and he knows there’s a far better way to get his message across. They meet in the middle, the taller designer leaning down a bit to help accommodate their slight different in height. He finds himself immediately lost in the soft warmth of the kiss.   
  
Ferdinand’s lips are even softer than he thought they would be. He doesn’t push his luck--he just kisses him, slow and sweet in the hall of this apartment building. Their lips move together slowly, and he can feel the romance blossoming around them. This is so unlike him, and yet, he wouldn’t have it any other way.   
  
When they both pull back to break away, he takes note of Ferdinand’s arms, now around his shoulders, and his own on the model’s slim hips. He can feel the lines of his body pressed against his own, warm and comforting.   
  
“That was lovely,” Ferdinand murmurs, his hand moving to cup Hubert’s jaw. He instinctively leans into it, eyes half lidded. 

“Mmm,” is all he can manage, and Ferdinand releases a soft little chuckle against his lips. They kiss once more, just a second or two of a press of the lips, before Ferdinand unwinds his arms from Hubert’s shoulders and steps away, but not far.   
  
“I should get to bed,” Ferdinand says slowly, as if he doesn’t want to. “But tomorrow, after my shoot--come over. We can watch a film together.”

Hubert nods dumbly, his hand catching Ferdinand’s and giving it a soft squeeze. “Yes, sure. Of course. Whenever you’d like.”   
  
Ferdinand just smiles, delighted and adorable. “I’ll text you. Please let me know when you’re home safely, Hubert.”

  
He nods in response, leaning down to give his cheek a kiss before Ferdinand finally pulls away, unlocking his apartment.   
  
He pauses before he goes in, giving Hubert a smile that makes his stomach twist. “Good night, Hubert.”   
  
“Good night, Ferdinand,” he responds, and he watches the model slip into his apartment. And as he goes, Hubert realizes he’s taken his heart along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter, here's a kiss to make up for it


End file.
